Tabula Rasa
by Matchbox Dragon
Summary: Are we the product of our memories and experiences, or is our character inborn? If a person cannot remember who he is, is he still the same person? Suddenly struck with amnesia, Barron Battle is about to find out. FINALLY finished and re-posted.
1. Prologue: Like Father, Like Son?

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own Sky High or its characters, settings etc, all of which belong to Disney. This story was inspired by an episode of 'Missing' called 'John Doe'._

_A/N: I have FINALLY finished the story and re-posted it! I am so sorry for taking so long to write the last chapter._

**

* * *

****Prologue: Like Father, Like Son?**

Irene Peace gripped the steering wheel hard as she drove through the streets of Maxville, but she saw nothing in front of her. In fact it was amazing that she managed to get home safely. Since Principal Powers had called to tell her that her son had been in a fight – with young Stronghold, of all people – Irene had found concentration to be impossible, and eventually she gave up trying and left work early.

She let herself into the apartment that she and Warren called their home and sat down heavily at the kitchen table with a brand new box of tissues. She was going to need it.

As the tears poured, she dismally imagined history repeating itself. The worst part was that she couldn't really blame Warren. It wasn't entirely his fault. She knew exactly where he got his temper; the same person he got his powers from.

Barron Battle was basically a nice guy – a lot of the time. But when he lost his temper, it was horribly violent. As the superhero known as CrossFire, he'd had a bit of a reputation for using rather more force than necessary, but he also had such a good track record for bringing in the bad guys that he managed to get away with it.

The ones that bore the brunt of his temper were his wife and son. The abuse that followed every time Barron had had a bad day was the reason Warren developed his first power – the healing one – at the extremely young age of four. It was his only defence against the brutality, but unfortunately it also meant that Barron got away with beating the boy whenever he felt like it, without leaving any evidence. It would only be many years later that Warren would develop his father's pyrokinesis as well, ironically long after the time when he really needed it to fight back and protect his mother.

Time and again Irene would threaten to leave her abusive husband, but every time Barron would plead heartbreakingly for just one more chance. Finally, one day she decided she'd given him enough chances, and she was busy packing her and Warren's things when he came home. When she refused to stop packing they had a massive fight which was interrupted when a distress call came in for him.

Barron left to take care of the situation, but with his emotional state at that point he took out his temper on the super-villain in question even more violently than usual... along with a large number of innocent citizens who happened to get in his way. 58 people died that night and at least a hundred more were injured. Understandably, the public would not tolerate that kind of atrocity from a superhero, and Barron Battle was locked away for his crime with a maximum penalty.

Irene blew her nose and reached for another tissue. Warren would be home soon and she really didn't know how she was going to handle the situation. Never since her horrible marriage had she wished so much that her powers had more to do with calming people than with calming the weather.

The door slammed and she flinched involuntarily, but made no move from where she was sitting. She still had no idea what she was going to say or do.

Warren walked into the kitchen. When he saw his mother in tears, looking completely heartbroken, his breath caught in his throat. He could only imagine how disappointed in him she must be, how afraid she was of what – or rather, who – he was turning into.

They just looked at each other for a long, painful moment. Finally Warren spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "I know you heard that so often from Dad that it barely means anything any more, but I really _am_ sorry."

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I lost my temper," he mumbled, looking down. "I just saw red. I really don't know what I was doing." He sat down opposite her and sighed. "I don't know why I reacted like that. It's not like he did anything to deserve it."

He looked up at his mother and saw the fear in her eyes. "You're afraid I'm going to turn out like _him_, aren't you?"

After a moment she nodded reluctantly, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

"Yeah," he answered sadly. "Me too, sometimes."

**

* * *

****_Five months later_**

Irene was suspicious the moment she got home from shopping one rainy Saturday morning and walked in the door to see the dishes all done and the kitchen clean. True, that was usually Warren's chore because of his tolerance to hotter wash water than she could handle, but she usually had to nag a couple of times before it got done. If he'd done his chores voluntarily, that usually meant he was trying to butter her up for something.

"Warren?" she called, and he appeared in the kitchen so fast she could have sworn he had teleportation powers. "What do you want?" she asked with a knowing smile.

He pretended to be hurt. "What, is it impossible that I did my chores just because I wanted to please you?" he teased.

"Not impossible, but extremely unlikely," she replied in a similar tone.

Warren acknowledged that with a shrug and a wry smile. "Okay, maybe I wanted to ask a favour."

Irene smiled. "And what favour were you 'maybe wanting' to ask?"

"Well, the weather really sucks today and it's Layla's birthday picnic this afternoon, so Will kinda twisted my arm to ask you to fix it."

"And with his powers I imagine he twisted quite hard," his mother observed, amused. "Why don't you all go down to the Paper Lantern or something? I thought she liked it there."

"She does, but she really had her heart set on having a picnic." Warren gave her his best approximation of puppy dog eyes. "Please, Mom. I know you're against manipulating the weather for frivolous reasons, but this is special…"

He trailed off as she pursed her lips, considering his request. She'd learnt the hard way that it was extremely irresponsible to mess around with the weather. Because her powers only involved _calming_ the winds and storms, not creating them, she'd once come very close to causing a drought. After that she'd decided to study climatology so that she would know how and when to use her powers responsibly. Nowadays she worked as a researcher at the Maxville Climate Research Centre as her cover job, and only used her powers to reduce storms enough for other heroes to be able to rescue citizens from flooded areas.

Still, Irene couldn't bear to deny Warren his request. Even though it had been a number of months now since Will Stronghold and his gang had befriended her son, she was still so thrilled that Warren had real friends now that she was prepared to do anything for them. Apart from the way that they seemed to be drawing him out of his moody shell, for Irene it was also a sign that he was becoming less like his father.

Barron had had very few friends. Oh, he'd been extremely popular and he'd always had a number of acquaintances and groupies, but very few genuine _friends_, and it was by his own choice. While Warren usually kept people at a distance with his antisocial attitude, Barron kept them from getting close to him by being a social butterfly. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Irene gained hope from anything that made Warren different to his father.

"I'll think about it," she answered at last, which Warren immediately took as an affirmative.

"Thanks, Mom, I knew you wouldn't let us down," he said with a small grin. He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed his jacket on the way out the house.

"Hey, I only said I'd _think_ about it!" Irene called after him, not bothering to hide her smile, and he just waved as he closed the door behind him.

Sure enough, that afternoon the clouds parted and the sun shone brightly through Layla's birthday picnic. As soon as it was over, the storm carried on its course and blew for another three days, to the confusion of most of the Climate Research Centre.

But, as far as Irene was concerned, it was worth it for Warren's friends… for his sake.


	2. Chapter 1: Lost and Found

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Sky High or its characters, settings etc, all of which belong to Disney. This story was inspired by an episode of 'Missing' called 'John Doe'._

**

* * *

**

Chapter 1: Lost and Found

He didn't know why he was running, or who he was running from.

He didn't even know who he was.

It seemed that there had been… an explosion of some kind, and there were people running around panic-stricken… and he just knew he wanted to get away… he _needed_ to get away.

A couple of hours later, by sheer blind luck, he reached the city limits, but he had no idea what city it was or where to go. After an uncomfortably hungry night under a bridge, some well-meaning person advised him to go to the nearby homeless shelter.

He couldn't remember how to read, so it took him a while to find the place. The woman in charge of the shelter looked at what he was wearing – some kind of grey overalls – and asked if he used to work in a garage or something, but he had no idea. The nice lady seemed to understand that he didn't know what was going on, and she gave him a bowl of soup and some bread, and showed him to a bunk among some other men in ragged clothing. Maybe they had also lost their memories?

Lying on the bed that night, he tried as hard as he could but he couldn't even remember his own name. All he had was fleeting images and words that disappeared as soon as he tried to concentrate on them. It was frustrating, but at least he wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

It was the strangest thing, this fire from his fingertips.

He'd been thinking that he was feeling a bit cold and he would like to warm up… and then these flames had suddenly appeared.

He stared at the fire, fixated. It should be burning his flesh, but it just felt… pleasantly warm.

And then he heard panicked shouts, and he realised that the fire was no longer just flickering in his hands, but had spread along the sheets and jumped to the next bunk. He looked around in horror at the destruction he was causing. If only he could stop it as well as start it… but he didn't seem to be able to. Or maybe it was just that he couldn't remember how…

The man in the next bed screamed as his sleeve caught fire while he was trying to climb down from the top bunk.

The sound stirred the amnesiac pyro into action. Using his hands, which seemed to be fireproof, he reached over and smothered the flames and then he helped the man out of the shelter. He returned to the scene and helped two more people who'd collapsed and another who was coughing so hard he couldn't walk. By the time everybody was out safely, the fire department had arrived to put out the blaze.

He turned to the woman who ran the shelter. "I'm sorry," he said in a horrified whisper, over and over. "I'm so, so sorry."

* * *

First thing the next day Mary Grant went to the local police station. When the amnesiac man had arrived at her homeless shelter the previous day, she'd made a note in her appointment diary that he would need to go to some sort of mental hospital for his memory loss. Now it was looking like there was a more serious problem than just that.

She had nothing against the man personally, and she'd certainly not had any other reason to be afraid of him. And she'd had some strange people at the shelter before, so she'd learnt not to ask too many questions because she didn't really want to know what they'd been up to. But if this man had some sort of destructive superpower, then it would be best for the appropriate authorities to handle the situation.

At the police station, Mary was advised to take him to the superhero wing of Maxville General Hospital and they gave her instructions how to get there.

So, this was what _really_ went on behind this particular door marked 'Authorised Personnel Only', she mused as she led the amnesiac stranger up to an ordinary-looking side entrance.

The only strange thing about it was that there was a security guard at the door, who said nothing as they approached. He just stared at her with his arms folded. He was probably a superhero too, she thought. In fact, the superheroes probably had their own top-secret school where they learnt all about Intimidating Stares, and How To Keep The Citizens From Poking Their Noses Into Superhero Business.

"Um, hello," she said nervously. "This man has lost his memory, but he has superpowers so I was told to bring him here."

The security guard inclined his head fractionally towards the amnesiac, which she took as a sign of assent, and stood aside slightly. When Mary started to move forwards, the guard halted her with another of his Stares. Evidently she wouldn't be allowed in too.

She turned to the strange man and said, "Well, good luck, I guess."

"Thanks," he replied quietly, "And I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," she reassured him, patting his arm. "It was an accident. And these people can help you so that it doesn't happen again."

He nodded a bit uncertainly and edged past the hulking security guard to get through the door. Inside he saw what looked like just another wing of the hospital. He walked up to the reception desk, but before he could say a word the middle-aged nurse on duty looked up and him and gasped.

"Barron Battle!" she whispered, horrified, reaching for the security panic button.

He frowned in confusion. "Who?"

**

* * *

**Warren and his mother didn't watch the news much, apart from the weather report, of course, but even they soon heard about what had happened at the prison.

Ballista had tried to bust some of her buddies out of jail, by using her powers to blow a hole in the side of the prison compound. Unfortunately for her, things hadn't gone quite as planned. Not only was she also captured, but none of her gang escaped.

However, a small number of prisoners, who'd happened to be in the area at the time, _did_ manage to get out. Three had been recaptured by the next morning, but two were still at large… including Warren's father.

For political reasons, the Federal Superhero Agency was reluctant to admit to the public that they were missing some super-villains, especially a notorious one like Barron Battle. So the news story announced that the situation was under control and there was nothing to worry about. Meanwhile, every hero in the state was instructed to search out the missing prisoners.

And, because the superheroes knew the truth, so did the students at Sky High. Expecting a reaction the next day, Will and the gang did their best to form a protective barrier around Warren, although privately it was as much to protect the prying students from their friend's temper as it was to protect _him_ from _them_.

The following afternoon Warren got home from school to find his mother back from work already, and waiting for him.

"We need to go to the superhero hospital," she told him.

"Why?" he asked grumpily, feeling a bit irritable after the day he'd had despite Will & Co.'s best efforts.

"It's your father. He turned up there."

* * *

Irene and Warren looked through the one-way glass into the isolation ward without saying a word. Neither of them could believe what they were seeing. There was Barron Battle, sitting on a hospital bed, politely answering the questions put to him by a woman with a notebook. He shook his head and gave a confused half-smile when asked about who he was or where he had been a week ago.

"Are you sure the amnesia is genuine?" Irene asked the doctor standing with them in the observation room. This wouldn't be the first time that a super-villain faked something of this nature to escape culpability.

"Amanda is a telepath," replied the doctor, gesturing to the woman in the iso ward. "She's trying to find out the answer to that exact question."

They turned their attention back to what was happening on the other side of the one-way glass.

"And what happens when you try to remember?" they heard the telepath asking.

"Sometimes I see flashes of something that goes by so fast I can't even recognise it," Barron answered. "Sometimes I don't see anything. I guess part of the problem might be that I don't even _want_ to remember."

"Why not?"

He frowned in thought. "Well, what if Barron Battle is a bad person? I saw the way the nurse at the front looked at me. And the other people around here. And the security guards outside the door of this ward, I'm sure they're only here for a good reason." He sighed and leaned back on the pillows. "I must have done something terrible."

"Do you think you could have done something terrible?" asked Amanda gently.

"I'd like to hope that I wouldn't," came the reply, "But I can't remember anything, so maybe I did." He sighed again and added sadly. "I don't _want_ to remember doing something like that, and I really don't want to remember who I am if that person is evil."

Amanda came out of the ward to talk to them in the observation room, and Irene and her son shared a glance. Even Warren could remember that his father had never shown this kind of remorse for the accidental victims of his temper.

"I believe that the amnesia is almost definitely genuine," the telepath reported. "I sense no deceit whatsoever, and what I saw of those flashes of memory he mentioned are so jumbled they make no sense. The only other plausible explanation for this is that he somehow acquired telepathic abilities during Ballista's explosion."

"But that's not likely, right?" asked Irene.

Amanda shook her head. "It would require years of training and practice to be able to fool an experienced telepath, so I'd say that option is pretty much impossible."

They took a moment to digest that, and then the doctor asked the obvious question. "Will he regain his memory?"

"I really can't answer that," Amanda said. "It might come back next week, next year or not at all."

Warren spoke up from the first time since they arrived. "But this came from some kind of head trauma during Ballista's attack on the prison, right?" he said.

The doctor nodded. "It seems so."

"Then his healing power will take care of the amnesia, won't it?"

"The mind is more than just brain tissue and neurons," responded the telepath. "Even if the minor damage to his brain is repaired by his powers, there is no guarantee that his memories will return. They could be lost forever."

Just then Martin Green, one of the Directors of the Federal Superhero Agency, came into the observation room, looking expectantly at Amanda who gave him a summary of what she'd told the others.

When she was finished Mr. Green looked thoughtful. "This is a unique situation, Ms. Peace. There really is no precedent and I admit that I'm not entirely sure how to proceed."

Irene agreed. "In a lot of ways it seems like he's a whole different person, but it all depends on whether this will last."

The Director turned to Amanda and asked, "Do you have any idea when you'll know if the amnesia is permanent?"

"I honestly can't say, sir. We'll only know for sure that it's not permanent if he gets his memory back."

"Hmm. The trouble is that we can't wait for that to possibly never happen. A decision needs to be made now."

"What decision?" asked Irene.

"Whether or not to send him back to prison," Mr. Green said simply.

She frowned slightly in confusion, but Warren understood what the Director meant. "If the amnesia is permanent, then we have to ask ourselves if it's fair to make him pay for a crime he cannot remember committing," he surmised.

"That is precisely my concern," said Mr. Green. "But if he doesn't go back to prison, then what? Is it really safe to let him go free, with or without the use of his powers?" He looked at Irene. "For instance, would you feel safe to have him back in your home?"


	3. Chapter 2: Ignorance is Bliss

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Sky High or its characters, settings etc, all of which belong to Disney. This story was inspired by an episode of 'Missing' called 'John Doe'._

* * *

**Chapter 2: Ignorance is Bliss**

Irene just stared at Mr. Green, her mind reeling with questions and confusion.

_Would_ she feel safe allowing Barron back into her home and her life?

Would she even _want_ to?

While he might have forgotten the way he treated his family, _she_ couldn't so easily. She'd given him so many 'last chances' that the word 'sorry' was meaningless when it came from him, as Warren had once noted.

But, as she looked at the man in the isolation ward, she had to feel that it wasn't actually the same person. Barron had always had a slightly harsh edge which was most often expressed in his darkly sarcastic humour. It was so subtle that few people had ever realised that that there was something cynical lurking behind the clever quips and smart-mouthed comebacks. That edge was completely missing now, possibly because he could no longer remember whatever it was that had caused it.

Suddenly her attention was back to the iso room by a nurse entering and Barron asking her if he'd been in prison or something.

She looked a bit uneasy. "I'm afraid I can't answer that question," she answered hesitantly.

He gave a wry expression that was the exact image of the one Warren sometimes wore. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," he said quietly. "I expect that when the doctors are finished with their tests I'll be going back to prison to finish my sentence, won't I?"

As he looked away, the nurse flicked a questioning glance towards the one-way glass of the observation window. She was obviously feeling out of her depth with the way the conversation was going. Mr. Green seemed to decide that it was time for him to intervene. With a nod to Irene and Warren to stay put for the meantime, he went around into the iso room and introduced himself to the patient.

He finished with, "And as for the question of your fate, that still needs to be decided."

"What's there to decide?" Barron asked with a frown. "If I did something bad enough to be in prison in the first place, then I should go back there."

"Some might argue that it wouldn't be entirely fair, considering you have no memory of performing the deed."

"Others might argue that it wouldn't be 'entirely fair' to simply let me go free," Barron countered. "Whether or not I can remember doing whatever it was, it was still me who did it."

When Irene heard him say that, her heart melted completely. How could she not be touched by the way he was prepared to pay for crimes he had no idea he'd committed? Her eyes wet, Irene looked over at her son, wondering how he felt.

For his part, Warren wasn't quite sure how he felt either. He kept remembering what he and his mother had suffered at the hands of his father, but at the same time he was having difficulty equating that Barron Battle with the one in front of him, who had just been asking after a couple of the people from the homeless shelter by name.

One thing he knew for sure. Despite the awful way he'd acted in the cafeteria, both Will and Layla had taken a chance on him, invited him into their circle of friends and treated him like he wasn't some kind of disaster waiting to happen.

This man deserved the same treatment. Probably more than he had, in fact.

He nodded shortly and his mother gave him a brief hug before going into the iso room. Warren trailed behind her and hung back near the door as his father looked up at the new arrivals. Mr. Green was busy telling him that there was possibly another option.

"Hello," he said politely when he saw them. "I'm sorry if I'm supposed to know you, but I couldn't even remember my own name, so please don't be offended." He gave a sheepish half-smile, which Irene returned tearfully.

"Barron, I'm Irene," she said, her voice full of emotion. "I'm your wife."

* * *

In the end it was decided to tell him that he'd been in jail for manslaughter, for a situation where he had accidentally caused a huge fire with his powers that had harmed a lot of people. To spare him any further guilt, and to keep him from insisting on being locked up again, they decided it would be kinder to tell him that no one had died in the incident.

Still, Mr. Green had insisted that Barron wouldn't be allowed to simply go out into public with his powers, something Barron heartily agreed with, remembering the fire at the shelter. So he wore a power-neutraliser, a thick metallic band around his wrist, which could only be opened by two keys. Irene had the one key, and Warren had the other.

It could have been a recipe for disaster, but it wasn't. Barron was almost like a puppy, so eager to fit in and become a normal law-abiding member of society.

As with his escape from prison, the public were kept entirely in the dark about the newfound freedom of the notorious ex-super-villain. Of course, that didn't keep the story from circulating around Sky High so fast that Warren was considering calling Guinness World Records.

But, strangely enough, it didn't actually bother him as much as he thought it would. Oh, it was irritating, of course, and sometimes he really did need that nudge from Will or Layla's hand on his shoulder to keep him from incinerating something. But for the most part, he didn't really care what the rest of the kids thought. For once in his life, he had a chance at a happy home life, and that helped him get through the day.

And anyway, he only had to put up with the whispers and stares until his graduation, which wasn't that far off now. Having a proper father would last much longer than that.

Provided Barron Battle didn't remember who he used to be.

* * *

Things were still going well three months later. Barron was enjoying his job as a welder at the nearby metalworks, but he was still having trouble learning how to read again.

It was extremely frustrating for him, and Irene often wondered rather guiltily if it might've been easier if his powers weren't neutralised. Maybe his difficulty was because there was something wrong with him medically, which his healing powers could have fixed? But she also had to agree with Mr. Green's insistence that it simply wouldn't be safe to allow Barron to have his powers just yet. Which, of course, begged the question: when _would_ it become safe? If ever?

In the meantime, Barron struggled on, and Irene shook her head in sympathy for the millionth time. He was sitting on the couch with his books on the glass-topped coffee table while she made dinner in the kitchen area and helped him on the few occasions he asked for it. She'd learnt long ago not to lean over his shoulder and try to help too much, because that only embarrassed him.

Suddenly he snapped. "Why can't I get this?!" he demanded and slammed his fist forcefully down onto the coffee table. The glass top shattered and Irene gave a small squeal in shock. She started to back away, beginning to be afraid. This was the first time that he'd shown any sign of the temper he'd once had.

But as soon as he saw the damage, his anger evaporated immediately and he started apologising profusely. Irene's fear vanished as well, and she went over to help him pick up the pieces. Seeing that his hand was starting to bleed quite badly, she fumbled for her key for the neutraliser, and looked up to call Warren for his.

She didn't need to call him. He was there as soon as he heard the crash.

"What the hell happened?" he growled, watching the scene with narrowed eyes.

"Could I have your key, please, Warren? Your father needs his healing power."

Warren didn't move, still regarding Barron suspiciously. There was blood on his mother's hands too, and he couldn't tell whose it was. Irene noticed his reaction and quickly reassured him, "It was an accident, Warren. Nothing happened."

He hesitated a little longer, and she gave him a pointed look. Barron looked from one to the other, and then he also narrowed his eyes.

"Wait a minute, there's something more going on here," he said, and they both looked at him, their expressions caught between apprehension and uncertainty. He looked Warren in the eye and said quietly, "When you asked what had happened, you looked like you were expecting something more sinister than an accident. Did I used to… hurt… either of you?"

Warren broke eye contact and handed his mother his key. Irene unlocked the neutraliser and answered the question for him.

"It was all different then, Barron," she said, "_You_ were different then. It doesn't matter now."

She removed the power-neutraliser but he barely noticed as his hand healed completely in a matter of seconds.

"It _does_ matter!" he exclaimed forcefully, causing her to recoil slightly, and he deflated with a sigh. "See? That reaction there, automatically _flinching_ like that. That proves that it matters how I used to treat you."

He glanced down at his healed hand, and then something else occurred to him. Barron looked up at his son with haunted eyes. "You have this healing thing too, don't you?" Warren nodded, not looking at his father who easily drew the correct conclusion. "So I guess it would have been easy for me to… hurt you because there wouldn't be any scars or bruises, right?"

Warren nodded again, reluctantly, trying to think of something to say to reassure his dad that it matter anymore, but his mind was frozen.

Barron swallowed hard, feeling sick to his stomach. "I can't believe I did something like that. What kind of monster was I?" He shook his head. "And even more than that, I can't believe you people thought it would be safe to trust me again. And the Federal Superhero Agency, shouldn't they know better than that? Or didn't they know?"

Irene didn't answer that. Instead she tried to reason with him. "Barron, that was a different person who did those things. You're not that person anymore."

"And you've just really proved that," Warren added, feeling bad that he'd been so suspicious, and wishing he hadn't shown it so obviously.

But Barron refused to be comforted. It took him a long time to fall asleep that night. When he finally managed to, he was visited once again by the brief flashes of memories from a former life. But this time, the images slowed down and formed complete pictures he could finally understand…

_He was standing in the kitchen of their old home… Irene was crying, refusing to stop packing… Damn stubborn woman, always overreacting… There was a distress call on the Red Telephone… he told her that if she wasn't there when he got back, he'd hunt her down and drag her home where she belonged…_

_Stupid people, getting in his way… pathetic rubberneckers, when would they learn to mind their own business? … Ah yes, they'd got the message now, the ones that were still standing, that is… now where was that pathetic villain he was supposed to deal with? Oh, over there with his hostages… well, not anymore…_

Barron woke up with a gasp. It wasn't just a nightmare; it was a flashback of what actually happened. It _wasn't_ all an accident, like they'd told him. And people _had_ died. Lots of people.

He suddenly realised that he could remember everything.


	4. Chapter 3: Quo Vadimus?

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Sky High or its characters, settings etc, all of which belong to Disney. This story was inspired by an episode of 'Missing' called 'John Doe'._

* * *

**Chapter 3: Quo Vadimus?**

Warren woke sharply with a loud crack of thunder, which was followed by another noise that sounded a lot like the front door. For a few moments he lay in bed wondering if he'd imagined it, and he couldn't help remembering the times when he was a kid trying to get his mom to calm the thunder and lightning because he was scared.

There was another rumble of thunder, and he decided to check out the strange noise anyway. Warren slipped out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor, and walked quietly towards the front door.

At first glance, everything looked normal, then he noticed that the key ring on the key in the door was swaying slightly, as if the door had been recently opened and shut. Trying the handle, he found that the door was unlocked.

Warren frowned and walked quickly to his parents' bedroom, only to find his mother asleep alone.

He shook her shoulder gently. "Mom, wake up. Dad's gone."

She woke groggily and looked over at the other side of the bed. "Gone? Where?"

"No idea but I heard the front door close."

Irene glanced around the room with a frown, her gaze finally resting on her bedside table. Suddenly wide awake, she looked up at Warren in shock.

"He's taken my key for the power-neutraliser."

* * *

Once again, he was running, and he wasn't sure where he was going. The rain poured relentlessly as he ran, slipping slightly now and then on the wet pavements.

His first thought had been to turn himself in, and go back to prison where he belonged.

But then he'd still have to live with himself everyday… and he wasn't sure he could do that.

Barron came to a halt when he reached the river, and looked down at the thick power-neutraliser on his wrist, illuminated briefly by the lightning. In his other hand, he had Irene's key which he'd taken from her bedside table before he left. After looking at it for a long moment, he threw it as hard as he could into the water.

Now that his healing power was definitely out of reach, all he needed was to find a tall enough building.

* * *

Warren stared at his mother's bedside table while checking that he still had his key.

"What would he take just one key for?" he wondered. "He'd know he couldn't get the power-neutraliser off without my one."

His mother frowned. "Unless he's not planning to get it off," she said quietly and then turned at him. "Warren, it's possible that he remembers. Everything."

"But what's he going to do with your key then?"

Irene glanced away, looking sad. "If you were suddenly confronted with the memory of all the terrible things you'd done, would you want to live with yourself?"

Warren frowned. "You think he wants to…?"

"You saw how upset – guilt-ridden – he was, when he found out that he'd been abusive. Imagine how he would feel if he remembered everything else."

They thought that over for a long moment, and then Warren said, "Look, we don't know for sure what he's thinking until we find him."

Irene reached for the phone. "I'd better let the superhero authorities know."

"Can't you wait until one of us has at least spoken to him?"

"If my theory is right, we're going to need every available hero to help search before he does something terrible to himself."

Warren realised she was quite right. "And if your theory is wrong, we're still going to need every available hero to stop him doing anything else," he said quietly.

"I really want to believe that I'm right," his mother said. "Not that I like the idea of him being suicidal, but…"

He understood exactly where she was going. "Yeah, it's better than the idea of him going dark side again."

* * *

Warren stopped his mother's car next to Maxville Bridge and got out. It was difficult to see anything in the rain but he was pretty sure there wasn't anyone about to jump off the well-lit bridge. Pushing his wet hair back from his face, he wondered why his mom hadn't calmed the storm yet. He was pretty sure she would want to help the search, even if she was really hoping that the heroes did not find him before Warren did. Then again, she needed to be reasonably calm herself in order to use her powers, and he imagined she was even more upset than she'd appeared.

After the bridge, the next most likely place for someone considering suicide would have to be a tall building. He scanned the city skyline, wondering where to start. Didn't all those buildings have security and stuff that would make it impossible to get on the roof without permission?

Then a flash of lightning lit up what he was looking for – a new high-rise office building that was still under construction – so he got back in the car and sped towards it.

Just as Warren reached the top of the building in question he saw a figure right at the edge, silhouetted against the city lights. Stepping out onto the scaffolding that surrounded the building was his father.

"Dad!" yelled Warren as he ran up to him. "Wait!"

Barron looked over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Warren," he said sadly.

"No!" Warren made a wild grab as his father leaned forward to jump.

He managed to catch him by the hand but the momentum jerked him off his feet and he only just grabbed one of the scaffolding supports with his other hand in time.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded of his father who was dangling by one hand as the rain poured down on them.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you tell me what you're doing!"

His father looked up at him as he lay sprawled on the scaffolding. "Warren, I can remember everything!" he shouted over the sound of the storm. "I know what I did to you and your mother, and all those people! I deserve to die."

"You're not the same person anymore," Warren insisted.

"Maybe while I couldn't remember. But now I'm that same man again."

"No you're not!" yelled Warren desperately. "That man would never think he deserved to die. He was never sorry for what he did, even though he said he was."

"It doesn't matter!" Barron snarled as he reached up with his other hand and started to pry Warren's fingers off his wrist. "Let me go!

Warren made a wild grab with his other hand, losing his balance in the process, and sending them both over the edge. As they fell, Warren desperately yanked on his father's hand, reversing their positions so that he landed first, thankfully on a pile of building sand rather than the road, and Barron landed on top of him.

Warren just lay there painfully for a few minutes while his healing powers went to work, wondering whether this had been such a good idea. When he felt like he could move again, he carefully pulled himself out from under his father who groaned in pain and half-opened his eyes. Warren could see that he hadn't managed to completely break his dad's fall, and for the second time that night he was going to need his healing ability.

"Where's Mom's key?" he asked as he took out his key and opened the first lock.

"I threw it in the river," Barron replied weakly.

Warren eyed the second lock and pulled out his cell phone. In the absence of the key, his only hope was to try brute strength. It was after midnight, but he was pretty sure that Will would be out on patrol with his parents and all the other heroes.

"Stronghold, I need your help," he said as soon as Will answered.

"Have you found him?"

"You know that new high-rise on Carter and 42nd?"

"The one with all the scaffolding?"

"Yeah. And Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't bring your parents."

"Huh?"

"Just… come alone, okay?"

"Okay," replied Will, sounding confused as he hung up.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Barron. "I'm not worth saving."

Warren looked at him. "You feel you can't live with yourself now that you know what you did, yeah I get it."

"No, you don't get it," responded his father in a harsh tone. "My father treated me the way that … I treated you. In some… warped way, I believed that was some kind of excuse, payback or something. Like my father's abuse justified me taking my temper out on you, on your mother, on anyone else who got it my way." He closed his eyes, looking anguished. "I don't know where I got that idea from. I can't believe how sick I was."

" 'Was', Dad. That's my whole point. That's how you _were_, not how you _are._"

Barron sighed. "How do you know I won't do it again?"

Warren chose his words carefully. "I guess I don't. But I'm prepared to take the chance."

"Why?"

Good question, thought Warren. He wasn't sure why, any more than he was really sure why Layla invited him to sit down with her at the Paper Lantern that night. He could only guess she'd seen something in him that was worth befriending.

He was about to try and explain this when he looked up and saw someone flying towards them.

Will landed on the sand pile, feeling a bit uncertain. When Warren had told him to not bring his folks he'd assumed that his friend didn't want a nasty scene between the Commander and his old foe. Now he wasn't sure what was going on. Warren's father looked really beaten up and he was only just conscious.

"Stronghold, can you open this lock?" asked his friend.

Will looked down and saw that the lock in question was on the power-neutraliser around Barron Battle's wrist. "But, that's uh, that's…"

"Just answer the question, please," growled Warren.

"Uh, possibly. But I'm not sure that's a good idea." He could just imagine what kind of trouble he would get into for busting open a power-neutraliser. And although he'd got to know and like Warren's dad the past few months (despite his own parents' reservations), he was still potentially a dangerous man.

"Will, please! My father will die without his healing powers."

"Yes, but –"

"Aren't heroes supposed to save people's lives?" Warren challenged. "_All_ people?"

"No, Will," rasped Barron. "It would be better to let me die."

Will looked from one to the other. He really didn't know what he should do, but if he hesitated much longer it would be too late and the decision would be taken away from him.

"Please, Will?" begged Warren softly. Was it just the rain or did he have tears in his eyes?

In the end it was something of a no-brainer. Will really had no choice. He just couldn't let Warren's father die, even if that seemed to be what the man wanted.

He knelt down, took hold of the power-neutraliser and started to pull the second lock open. It was tougher than he'd expected and for a horrible moment he thought he might not be able to do it, that the neutralising bracelet was stronger than he was. But after a few very long seconds of straining, the lock began to give way. He paused for a short break to catch his breath before taking hold of it again. The hardest part was over, and he managed to break the power-neutraliser open.

"Thank you," whispered Warren, and the two of them sat silently in the rain, watching as Barron Battle began to heal.

He opened his eyes and looked at Will. "You'd better call your old man to come and arrest me again," he said, but there was no malice in his tone. Just sadness.

* * *

**Epilogue**

It was the strangest parole hearing in the history of the Federal Superhero Agency. The prisoner was arguing that he was guilty and should go back to jail while his son, who could be considered one of the victims, was arguing for his freedom. In the end, Barron Battle was granted parole, but he would have to wear a power-neutraliser for the rest of his life, and this time it was made from an even stronger alloy and neither Irene nor Warren had keys. He was, however, allowed access to his frozen bank accounts, which relieved a lot of financial issues for the three of them.

His personality became something of a blend between what he'd been before and after the amnesia. He still had a temper, but like Warren he worked hard to channel his aggression into something constructive rather than lashing out at the closest target the way he once did. The cynicism and sarcastic sense of humour was now directed more towards himself, and the compassion he'd shown during his amnesia became a driving force in his life.

Barron wanted desperately to contact the families of his victims, to offer an apology and try to make some sort of restitution, but the superhero authorities wouldn't allow him to. The last thing they wanted was for the story to get out that the infamous Barron Battle was out on parole.

But they couldn't stop him from secretly tracing the families and keeping an eye out for them, particularly the ones in the Maxville area. When a couple needed a plumber the account was mysteriously paid for them, and when a daughter was walking home late at night there was someone lurking in the shadows, making sure she got there safely. Warren was the only one who knew about it, and even he only found out by accident when he overheard his father arranging for one widow's car to be serviced at no cost to her.

He couldn't help feeling proud of the way his dad was trying so hard to make amends, but at the same time it was almost heart-breaking. He just hoped that one day his father would start to forgive himself.

**The End**


End file.
